Disclaimer: Sorry. Not mine.

Rated PG for: Um…because?

Author's Note: Going through old stories is an interesting experience. I found this sucker and thought, hell, there needs to be more Malfoy fic out in the world, doesn't there? Read and enjoy. Review too, if you feel so inclined.

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Change

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It was strange.

Things didn't often change in Malfoy Manor, and now in one summer a whole barrage of changes had forced their way into life. When they left it looked like a natural disaster had hit and killed all the house elves, which led to disarray.

Narcissa had changed.

Growing up in a household with two static figures, Draco had grown used to his mother. Distant and cold, she was doting in the sense that she sent him care packages and made sure his favorite wardrobe was pressed and clean when he came home for the holidays.

Fifteen years was also plenty of time to attach to a father. The giver of discipline he was proud in the way he taught his son the things all proper pureblooded wizards should know. Proud in the way he gave congratulations when needed.

That summer, something odd happened. Draco had known somewhere deep inside himself, he supposed, that his parents loved each other. In fact, he believed that some part of him even knew that they cared more for each other than their son. The love for a son was the love that was required from any human being with a soul. Their love for each other was something else.

It was a choice.

In late June when Draco returned to the Manor, Lucius Malfoy had already been sent to Azkaban. Draco expected the same Narcissa Malfoy, and the same routine, with a prison visit fixed into the schedule sometime during the week. When he thought it, he hadn't minded much, but apparently his mother had much different ideas than her son.

She spent far too much time in the study, writing letters, forgetting everything else. She grew lenient with the house elves, with the cleaning, with the food. Draco took it upon himself to take care of the house, to dish out punishment when it was due, to bring his mother meals at the proper time.

He didn't see Lucius once.

Narcissa did not discuss the topic. When Draco asked her if he'd be able to see his father she let her head fall sideways and eyes go wide. "I wasn't aware a visit was important. I'll look into it for you." She never did.

Draco got his Hogwarts letter about a week early. Narcissa got to it before he did and showed the book list to him at dinner that night. As he read through the list of necessities, his mother spoke. It wasn't something Narcissa did, start a conversation, but there was obviously something on her mind.

"I didn't have to marry your father, you know." She said it with such calmness, Draco near expected her to announce the divorce next. He wondered if he'd be allowed to stay at the Manor. Which parent he received didn't matter much.

He set the list down. Afraid to actually look at his mother, Draco turned his attention instead to the intricate silver ware. The snake slithering down his fork, ready to consume him once he made contact with the handle. "Oh?"

"Yes." Draco chanced to look up only to discover that Narcissa was staring off at the wall. He hoped that she wouldn't go on a romantic tangent about how she gave up the love of her life for his father. It was such a truly disgusting and frightening thought that it managed to paralyze Draco's tongue long enough for his mother to continue. "I was a Black. So esteemed, so dignified, I had the choice of any Pureblood that wasn't yet married or engaged." She stopped pensively for a moment. "Then I met your father."

Draco said nothing. He had never heard either one of his parents expound on how they had met. He knew they seemed to love each other in a way that they were afraid to show to the world. So he remained silent, and continued to gaze at his mother's distant face.

"I knew," she said. "I knew who he was, and I didn't care. I loved him. I do love him." The way she said this wasn't passionate in the least bit. It was a statement and a fact that held no regret or pain, or happiness really. She hadn't had any delusions of happiness in marrying him, and nor had she been the ignorant.

It was an oddly proud feeling, to know one's mother was pragmatic.

"We were happy for awhile, I think. We could still be, I suppose. He'll be back at the Manor again soon enough."

What exactly was Draco supposed to say in response to this? "Have you seen him since he's been put in Azkaban?" he asked.

Narcissa nodded. "Yes. When you weren't home."

This was a flooring statement. He had expected an indifferent shake of the head. He had never dreamed his mother would purposely visit his jailed father while he was out of the house. Without his knowledge. Didn't he have the right to see his own father? "Why?"

"It's not important for you to see him. You'll be going back to school again, before Lucius gets out, I imagine." Her gaze left the distant wall and turned back to her son. It was challenging him to speak up, an attempt to undermine her decision.

Draco realized that the bait she set out for him was much too simplistic for someone of his age to fall for, but he didn't care. So, he stood. "I think I'm old enough to make the decision of whether I get to see my own father. Please, set a date as soon as possible. I'd like to visit with him."

Narcissa stood. "That is not a wise idea, my son."

"I will see him," Draco insisted.

When Change revealed itself in the Manor it was either inconsequential or earth shaking. It was a tidal wave, wiping out everything in its path, changing the surface of the water forever though the waves eventually rippled themselves into a smooth surface.

For the first time in life, Draco was struck by one of his parents.

Narcissa's palm cracked briskly against his cheek. He raised his right hand in shock, staring open mouthed at his mother. Never had Lucius or Narcissa hit him, even during the deepest of disappointments. Physical punishment was something reserved for the household staff. For inferiors.

Narcissa straightened and gained composure. "I will go fetch your things tomorrow."

Returning to Platform 9 and ¾ held comfort that Draco had never known. For the first time in his life he truly wanted to get aboard that train and do something entirely inane like insult Harry Potter's scar just to watch Ron get worked up. He wanted to let his mind float away.

"I will write you. Inform me of the new Slytherin students." Narcissa squeezed his shoulder, perhaps a bit longer than she normally did, and watched as he boarded the cars. When he turned to say good-bye she was already gone.

Draco shoved his way onto a boxcar.

He did not see his father again until Christmas.